


JRWI Inktober Writing Prompts

by Ti_03



Category: Just Roll With It (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Death, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 29
Words: 18,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26749210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ti_03/pseuds/Ti_03
Summary: I saw the Inktober prompts that JRWI crew made on Twitter and since my ability to draw has disappeared, I have decided to write them instead.
Relationships: sylgarth - Relationship
Comments: 12
Kudos: 79





	1. Day 1: Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Please check out my friend Shadow_Reaper912's take on the prompts they are a very talented writer!

Mountain threw back the last few drops of the pint and let out a deep burp. He pounded his chest to get the last remains of his burp before heading upstairs into the inn. He felt more exhausted than ever. Perhaps it was the endless travel and the fact a doomsday was approaching that he felt the weight of it on his shoulders. 

He tossed his gear to the side of the room and kept Flametongue close to the bed. Just a precautionary action. He flopped onto the wool sheets and stared at the ceiling. 

Mountain hadn’t noticed he was rubbing the gold locket until he managed to draw every indent, every raised design and the unwelcome stains of dirt and blood. He held the jewelry up and stared at the dim shininess. He opened it and stared at the untouched picture of his wife. 

“Soon.” He mumbled to himself before gently setting it on the nightstand. 

The pounding at the door woke him up with a violent jolt. He rolled off the bed and grabbed the handle of his sword when he caught a whiff of smoke and heard the crackling of flames. 

Mountain stood up and hastily put on his gear. The pounding and the yells persisted and he rushed to open the door. Br’aad was coughing and wheezing as an unconscious Velrisa hung onto him. “Mountain we gotta go!” He wheezed. 

“Where’s Sylnan and Taxi?” The dwarf asked, covering his nose and mouth with his hand. 

”They both ran to get help.” 

Mountain draped Velrisa’s other arm his his shoulders and the two headed down the hall and to the stairs. The smoke was beginning to cover the ceiling and Br’aad had to crouch slightly to avoid inhaling it. 

“What happened? How did this happen?” Mountain questioned. 

“I..I thought I heard voices outside. Next thing I know, there was a crash in Velrisa’s room and then fire downstairs.” Br’aad choked. 

They were cautious going down the creaky stairs and into the burning tavern. It was almost unbearable with the heat and smoke but they kept their heads down as best as they could and went around burning furniture. 

He’s only watched a burning fire eat away at the building from the outside, but being inside was a different world. 

The flames continued to lick up at them and by the time Br’aad got to the door, the half-elf was ready to collapse. The blond pushed the door open and coughed once they stepped out. Velrisa was laid next to him and the dwarf could already point to several burns on her body. it was going to leave some pretty nasty scars. 

Taking out his waterskin, he had the gut feeling that something was missing from his pouch. He began searching, dumping out some of the contents of his bag.  _ What am I missing?  _ He thought to himself. 

Mountain turned his hear towards the inn and the realization smacked him.  _ His locket.  _ “Br’aad, stay here and take care of Velrisa.” He ordered before sprinting back into the flames and smoke. 

Sylnan and Taxi panted heavily as they ran back to the burning tavern. Pales of water sloshed and splashed around and their arms burned from carrying them. 

Br’aad was trying to push himself up, continuing to cough and wheeze his lungs out while Velrisa put her hand over the red and angry burn marks scattering her skin. 

Taxi dropped the pale and hunched over, hands on his knees and panting. “Is everyone out? Where’s Mountain?”

Br’aad’s eyes widened and he looked back at the building. “He’s still inside.” 

The support beam had crashed and collapsed against the bedroom door, trapping the dwarf and smoke inside. Hand on the knob, he tried to push and pull it open. The smoke he inhaled was making him cough and wheeze. He felt lightheaded and he fell to his knees. Calling for help pained him and his chest cramped up whenever he tried to yell. 

The locket was getting warm, almost on the verge of burning his palm as he burned it into his memory once more. He flicked it open and admired his wife. It brought back painful memories. Their own tavern burnt to ashes, being tried for a false claim, and then his wife’s dead. 

Her kind eyes dripping with tears and the coarse rope around her throat as she stared at her husband.  _ I don’t want to die _ , she silently begged him before she dropped. 

Mountain draped the locket around his neck and traced every indent, every detail, wiped away the dirt and blood and stared at the picture. His wife smiled at him with loving eyes and wrinkles he remembered whenever she smiled at him. 

He held it to his lips and gently kissed it, holding it in his palm. He turned his back to the door and coughed. He could feel the burning wood and saw the room thicken with clouds of dark grey. 

_ “Soon." _


	2. Day 2: Royalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little prequel thing to my story "The Enemy of My Enemy and His Sons" fic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heehoo it's very short because I hate Rigmund screw him down with the aristocrats.

Rigmund shuffled through his papers and documents, holding a fat turkey leg in his hand as he scanned the words. Those  _ heroes _ that many people called them,  _ The Fated _ , almost made him choke out of laughter. 

They were beneath him, nothing more than more pawns to play with. They would all die very soon, either by the strings he pulled himself or an angry drunk at a low tavern. 

The king bit into the warm meat and yanked it out, chewing and drooling. He set the leg down on the platter and wiped his greasy fingers on a napkin before picking up a document of two half-elves. Though they weren’t similar in looks, they reminded Rigmund of people he once knew. 

One of them had long blond hair and purple eyes, described to have tattoo markings running all over his arms and an odd phallus tattoo on his left cheek. The other brother was described to have slicked back grown hair, a soul patch on his chin, and is frequently seen wearing a white fedora. 

He glanced at their names and his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Br’aad Vengolor and Sylnan Vengolor. The two orphaned boys that ran away from the orphanage and lived out of his range of knowledge until now. 

However, that didn’t surprise him. The boys looked strikingly similar to their parents: the king’s past and deceased mistress and the man who created the crime ring in his Wharf. 

Rigmund smiled widely and laughed. It made sense now. All of it made sense to him. How else would they still be alive if it weren’t for Brenden? Providing shelter and food and water for those two halfies. They must’ve worked under him in return. To survive.  _ Pathetic. _

The king pushed back his chair and yelled for his guards and Dominion. They came rushing in, weapons drawn. “At ease,” Rigmund spoke calmly. “I have orders for you men.” 

Dominion sheathed his weapons and bowed. “Yes, King Rigmund?”

He grabbed the leg of turkey and ripped a chunk off.  _ More puppets and a headless Brenden on a silver platter. What a happy ending for everyone.  _


	3. Day 3: Sneak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s a sneaky boy.

Sylnan wrapped his wounds with old bandages, wincing as the tan bandages touched the open cuts. He didn’t expect this job to be so violent and bloody. Although, he should’ve at least suspected it. 

He opened and closed his fingers, wincing at the jolts of pain and soreness coursing through. This was going to be a hard time covering it up from Br’aad.

He glanced around the room once more, blood and unconscious or dead bodies around him. He was going to get hell if he was found out. 

Heavy metallic footsteps got closer from down the supposedly vacant street and the half-elf grabbed what he could find. A couple hundreds of gold, his daggers, and his cloak. He barely hurdled his body over a crate when the troop of guards arrived on the scene. 

Sylnan peeked his head around the corner of the crate. About 3 guards, equipped with swords and less than impressive armor. 

“This is a lot of blood.”

“Guess that means less scum on the streets.”

“Should we report this?”

“Not my probl-“ One of the guards stopped and looked towards the half-elf’s direction and they met eyes. “Hey!” Sylnan bolted for an exit, the heavy footsteps chasing after him. 

Breathing was already hard enough, his chest felt so heavy and painful and putting pressure on his ankle slowed him down. The rogue looked over his shoulder. They weren’t close to him, but even one wrong move or slowing down for a second would possibly be the end for him. 

The guards stopped in their tracks, looking around the dark dead end alleyway. “Bastard got away.” One of them growled. 

They shoved and shuffled through the trash and boxes, looking for their tall culprit and ignoring the light sound of a metal object sliding.

* * *

  
Br’aad unwrapped his brother’s dirty and bloody bandages, taking a fresh roll out from his pocket and rolling it around the forearm. “How do you always come home bloody?” He asked worriedly, ripping off an end and tucking it in. 

Sylnan winced, cradling his newly bandaged arm. “I’m not always hurt.” He grumbled. 

“You’re either hurt or you smell like sewers. Tonight it’s both.”

“It was my only way out!”

“And you should be lucky you’re sneaky!”

“Ow! What the hell?!”


	4. Day 4: Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demons can be quite controlling monsters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of blood and gore, however it's not explicit.

_ He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting in front of the foggy mirror, staring into the mist. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak; he could only see the dark purple eyes staring hungrily at him and hear the faint growl and chuckle surrounding him.  _

**_“You look pale, Sylnan.”_ ** _ It spoke, the glass beginning to clear up.  _ **_“You look like you haven’t had a good meal.”_ **

_ He attempted to open his mouth and speak, but it was like something was pinching his lips closed or a sewing needle stringing his lips shut. He wanted to curl in on his stomach after it painfully began cramping and rumbling but alas he wasn’t able to do just that. The demon’s wide smirk showed through the fog.  _

**_“Is that it? It’s been awhile since we’ve gone on a hunt. Wouldn’t want to hurt your own friends now, would you?”_ ** _ It cackled, a clawed and dark hand pressed against the mirror.  _ **_“Or would you like to get rid of one? Let the stress be eaten away? Traveling isn’t doing so well for you now, is it?”_ **

_ On cue, the pain began again. This time the half-elf was able to wrap his arms around his abdomen and fold himself. He could feel the drool dribbling out of his mouth and down his chin. He..he was so hungry.. _

_ “Sylnan!” A childish voice echoed behind him and he perked up. In the mirror he could barely see the silhouette of a child just a couple-ten, maybe 15 feet-away from where he sat. The child wore ragged and torn clothes, a bright and loving smile on his pale face. The clothes hung off of his small arms. He wouldn’t get a lot of meat if he- _

_ The half-elf growled and shut his eyes. “No!” _

__ **_“Yes.”_ **

_ A sharp and clawed hand grabbed his face and Sylnan stared at the demon’s soulless and void like eyes.  _ **_“You act as if you have any freedom, Sylnan Vengolor. But just because you left that wretched ditch of a Wharf, doesn’t mean you can taste that lick of freedom wherever you go. You will never rid of me, halfie.”_ ** _ The demon’s appearance disappeared before him and his vision quickly went blank. The painful hunger and drool continued to torture him. It was difficult to keep his eyes open, but he could hear heavy breathing and two sets of footsteps around him. His body felt almost limp, but he knew there was some kind of control because he didn’t feel like he was moving back and forth or thrown around.  _

_ A quick thud and a scream had his eyes opening. The child struggled and kicked and sobbed, clawed hands wrapped around the skinny neck.  _

The fire crackled weakly and heavy breathing almost overshadowed the peaceful flame. The hunger and pain was gone, he was able to move without wincing or wanting to groan and curl up into a ball. Red dripped down his chin and onto the body beneath him. The metallic and foul stench of blood burned his nostrils and the taste on his tongue made him want to hurl. He couldn't tell if the sobs were from underneath him or if they were from himself. 

**_“Don’t forget to thank me, you monster.”_ **


	5. Day 5: Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He just wants to feel that nostalgia sometimes.  
> Sylgarth shipping (Sylnan x Ugarth)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for episodes 19 and 26 of arc 1!!  
> Also slight trigger warning: There's mentions of blood and a bit of non-explicit violence.

Sylnan stared at his reflection in the silver dagger, still being able to outline his own face and facial features in it. It felt unusually heavy, constantly having to move it between his hands and then twirling with the hilt. He carefully ran his thumb along the curved blade, just barely ghosting it so that it didn’t press into the skin. Just another stressful day, dealing with his brother’s idiocy and Mountain’s drunken antics. 

He was startled to feel the bed dip on the other side of where he sat. He glanced and looked back down to his dagger.

“You look like shit.”

“I could say the same for you>”

A moment of silence had his shoulders hunched up next to his ears. “Rough day?” Ugarth asked, his own gaze settling on his partner’s weapon. 

The half-elf shrugged and then tossed it off on the nightstand, pulling his knees close to his chest. “I guess you could say that.” He mumbled. 

The bed creaked and the sound of blankets shuffling canceled out the silence. The spot next to him dipped and then an arm wrapped around him. “You’re safe with me, Syl.” said the half-orc. “Even though something is bothering you, I’m always with you and here with you. You don’t have to say anything right now. 

_Damn, how was this man so good at bringing him to tears?_

Sylnan tries to use his cloak to wipe away the tears and snot running down his face, choking on sobs and blinking rapidly to get rid of the tears. “ _I miss you, so much.”_

_“I miss you too, Syl.”_

“It was so hard not thinking about you all day. When I wished that you were there to grab my hands or squish my face then tell me that you’re always here.” He let out a small and nervous chuckle. “But now you’re here and I’m glad.”

Large and gentle fingers softly ran their fingers through his greasy brown hair. _“I’m sorry, Sylnan.”_

Closing his eyes, Sylnan leaned into the comforting touch and smiled. “What are you sorry for? You’ve done nothing wrong, you could never do anything wrong.” 

A long silence filled the room. The hand slowly began to stop it’s caress and the half-elf nearly whined. _“I’m so sorry.”_

“Stop saying that, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

_“I have many things to be sorry for, and I’m sorry that I’m not with you.”_

“What do you mean?” Sylnan opened his eyes and looked at his partner’s body next to his. He was leaning against the headboard, hand over his chest and the other laying limp at his side. A small glint of a blade shimmered in Ugarth’s chest. The half-ord gasped and couched, spraying bits and droplets of blood. _“I’m sorry, I wish I was there to be with you."_ The blood continued running fast and in big puddles when the scimitar was yanked out of his sternum and into the back of his neck and through the throat. 

He closed then rubbed his eyelids, opening them up and seeing only a puddle of blood pooling on the sheets and mattress. He began yelling, calling out for his partner. He can’t be gone, he was just here. He was sitting next to him, stroking his hair, _even talking to him._

He burst out of his room and into the streets, tears streaming down his face and the wind cracking and drying them up. Sylnan couldn’t lose him, he was what he had left. _He_ was what _they_ had left. 

Yelling once more, he collapsed on his knees and heaved heavily, punching the stone ground and causing his knuckles to bleed. Oh how he wanted to wish that it was a dream. How he wanted to tell his partner that everything that happened wasn’t his fault. He wanted him to take back his apologies because he was too scared to admit that Sylnan was the one who should’ve been sorry. 

Sometimes he longed for the past, simple days even when they were at their lowest. Sometimes he imagined them sitting on the Wharf docks and watching the sun set below the murky waters. Sometimes he wished he could’ve just stayed dead so that they could relive their past with each other. 

_“I’m sorry, Ugarth.”_


	6. Day 6: Sylnan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sick Sylnan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, this probably could've been Past, but I like the idea of sick characters alright? Also it's not very good so I apologize I'm just tired.

_ “Achoo! _ ”

_ “Bless you.” Br’aad mumbled softly, adding another lumpy pillow underneath his brother’s head.  _

_ The brothers didn’t look forward to winter time in the Wharf. The factory did little to nothing on keeping any heat in or out and they didn’t find the company of rats very warming. They usually huddled close together to keep each other warm with the very thin blankets stacked on top of them and shivering more than sleeping.  _

_ Sylnan sniffed and tried to keep his breathing quiet through his mouth. “It’s so cold..” he shivered, trying to hide his red face underneath the blanket.  _

_ He felt a small hand on his forehead and glanced at the worried face of Br’aad. “You’re very, very warm.”  _

_ “I might freeze to death before I die of being sick.” The older brother attempted to joke, harsh coughing following shortly afterwards.  _

_ “Please don’t say that, I’m gonna take care of you so that you’re stronger and better.” Then he stood up and wrapped the dirty coat around his tiny and skinny body.  _

_ Sylnan began to sit up, wincing at his aching and tired muscles. “Where are you going?”  _

_ “I’m gonna find warm food for you.” _

_ “Don’t forget about yourself, silly.” he sniffled.  _

_ Br’aad smiled reassuringly at him. “Try and get some rest please?” Before he left the building and into the cold streets of the Wharf.  _

_ Sylnan curled himself into a ball every time he shivered, coughing and sneezing. His throat felt so dry and he could only breathe through his mouth. His coughing hurt more and he was gasping for air after every coughing fit. He kept his eyes on the open windows, watching the snow continue to fall quickly. The harsh cold wind continuously hit him from every direction. The half-elf grabbed his pillows and blankets, dragging and crawling towards the empty crates. A group of rats huddled together in one corner, but Sylnan could care less. He was so tired, so cold, and franky a company consisting of rats didn’t sound too bad. _

_ It took him a while to arrive back. The dark skies were even darker now, snow continuing even faster and the winds pushing harder. Br’aad held the bowl of fresh and hot stew in his arms. The bowl burned, but it was the only warmth he had in the storm.  _

_ Finally, he made his way upstairs into the factory, the bowl still warm and pleasant.  _ _   
_ _ “‘Nan?” The younger brother called out. He was startled to hear rat squeaks from the corner. He was going to shoo them away when he saw his older brother sleeping and the rats huddled around the ill boy.  _

_ Br’aad grinned and shook Sylnan. “‘Nan?” _

_ “Achoo! _ ”

“Bless you.” Br’aad said, walking behind him leisurely. 

“Shit, I think I’m coming down with something.” Sylnan sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand and wiping it on his pants.

“Another cold? It’s not even winter yet.” He chuckled and the older brother grinned. 

“Well at least you won’t freeze to death to get soup.”

“I’m not your servant.” 

“I want soup.”

“You have money now, I’m not stealing it for you again.” 

“You said a nice lady gave that to you.”

“...”

“I still want soup.”


	7. Day 7: Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Items go missing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh I don’t suggest reading this I kinda forgot about this prompt and so yeah here we are now very rushed crappy and yeah.

They didn’t notice their belongings going missing for a while until Mountain began if anyone had seen his locket. He was, as usual, aggressive and irritable about losing it. 

“I can’t lose that again.” He mumbled to himself as he searched in his bags. “Nearly died trying to get it back.” 

“Do you think it might’ve fallen out of your bag?” Taxi asked. 

Before Mountain could respond with an insult, Jack put his head under his owner’s hands, holding on a small gold chain and locket in his mouth happily. “Did you have it the whole time, boy?” The dwarf asked, carefully taking back the jewelry and petting the mastiff’s head. 

Not too long later, the Vengolor brothers had begun to complain about their items getting switched or being misplaced. 

Late night after drinking in the tavern, Br’aad reached for his Wand of Wonder when he couldn’t find the magical item. He continued to pat himself down, finding more things missing on his person. His tome, his pink pouch, even his green scarf that wrapped around his waist. 

Ready to scold his brother, he patted his own pockets. His daggers, Ugarth’s journal, and more daggers weren’t where they usually were. 

Taxi and Velrisa stepped out of their rooms when they heard yelling in the halls. “What’s going on here?” Taxi asked, hand still digging through a bag. 

“He keeps taking my stuff!” They pointed at each other childishly. 

“Your stuff is gone too?” Velrisa asked. 

The four stared at each other, confused. A thief slowly pickpocketing them?

Behind the inn, Jack, Liveclock, and Hilltree laid down their newly acquired treasures in the middle, smiling and Hilltree pocketing the gold pouches. 


	8. Day 8: Tavern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for arc 2 episode 40!!!

Hera ushered the injured townspeople into the tavern, frantically looking around for any guards who might have spotted her. She couldn’t fit everyone inside, neither could she fit tons into her cellar. She quickly shut the door, locking and barricading it with flipped chairs and tables. 

“Is everyone alright?” She asked, taking a quick peek at the window. There were guards everywhere, either from Shaygrove or the Wharf fighting each other and innocent corpses laid on the streets. One guard with blond hair and bloody plate armor looked around, longsword gripped tightly in his hands. She didn’t recognize this man as one of Shaygrove’s. He almost looked like a fairytale hero if it weren’t for the blood. 

The man’s head turned to the tavern and for a brief moment him and Hera’s eyes made contact. She ducked down, wide eyed and heart thumping against her ribcage. “Please, please, gods above, he didn’t see me, he didn’t see me..” she muttered and prayed. Moments passed, her heart the only thing she could hear in her panic. She stared at the door, expecting someone to break it down. 

Hera let out a breath of relief when there were harsh and violent knocks at the barricaded door. It nearly came off its hinges easily and pushed away the chairs and tables to the side. Guards came into the tavern and immediately began searching, shoving and forcing people out of their way. 

“Oi!” she yelled, standing up and marching in front of them. “Whatever you’re looking for, I can guarantee you it isn’t in here or Shaygrove.” 

The human she saw outside earlier approached her, an expressionless face staring down at her. “Where are the Fated?” He questioned. 

“Who now?” 

“The Fated: a tiefling, a tabaxi, a dwarf, and two half-elf brothers. Where are they?” 

Hera tried not to give herself away, looking at this man as confused as she could. She bit her lip and glanced around to the injured people in her tavern. 

“It would be wise to show us where you’re hiding them, otherwise you might need to pay more than the damages to your tavern.”

Her mouth fell open and she glared. “You cannot just march into Shaygrove and throw around your demands and threaten innocents, even going as far as taking their lives!” 

He stared at the halfling for a moment, then glancing around the tavern at his other guards, and then back at her. “My apologies, it pains me to do this but it’s to keep my own head on my shoulders.” 

* * *

Dominion walked out of the tavern, staring down at the ground in shame. He dragged his longsword, attempting to wipe the splatters of blood off with a handkerchief. He looked up, seeing smoke arise from what he assumed was the theatre that he passed by earlier. Shaygrove was truly beautiful with seemingly nice people, and he wished that he would never have to visit the ruined down ever again. 


	9. Day 9: Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orianna awaits for a tabaxi named Taxi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Orianna x Taxi (Taxianna ship)   
> It's so cute. Also I'm sorry I was tired and busy to post this yesterday.

Oriana tucked her pink hair behind her pointed ear, humming a soft and calming tune as she sat and waited for Taxi. After he began picking up druidcraft, he’s been busy with practicing in private from his clan. She hadn’t seen him in awhile, so she was anxious to see why he had asked her to meet with him. 

The longer she waited, the more nervous and anxious she got. What had he planned? Did he forget that they were supposed to meet up? Did he do this on purpose? Rendezvous at a place only to not meet her and make her look like a fool? 

She twirled and played with her hair, trying to distract herself from her thoughts. He probably just wanted to catch up, say hi and tell her about his journey in practicing druidcraft. Orianna grinned, imagining the tabaxi rambling excitedly and stuttering over his words trying to explain to the tiefling. 

She waited, and waited, and waited. Yet he hadn’t shown up. Her leg began bouncing up and down and despite doing everything to distract herself, the worrying thoughts of him forgetting or leaving her on purpose returned full force. She sniffled and blinked away tears, biting her bottom quivering lip. 

The sun was beginning to set and she had enough, standing up and wiping tears away from her eyes. “A fool you are, Orianna.” She sniffled and turned to walk home. 

“Orianna!” she quickly turned around to see Taxi running to her barely able to stop in his tracks and braking inches in front of her. “Orianna,” he panted heavily. “I-I’m sorry for, for making you wait, making you wait for so long.” he coughed and gasped for breath. 

“As you should.” She instinctively scolded. “I was so worried about you, I thought you forgot or you were just leaving me here to make me look stupid.” Orianna rapidly blinked away stinging tears. 

“I’m sorry, really I am. My father was getting suspicious and then he forced me into monk training. I was barely able to get out of it to come and see you.” 

“Oh, well, I’m sorry for assuming things, I was just anxious. We haven’t seen each other in awhile.” The tiefling said, her voice soft and quiet. 

“I know, but I promise to make an effort to try and see you at least once a week.” He grinned at her, his tabaxi ears dropped back. 

She smiled and grabbed his face, pecking him on the lips gently. “I forgive you, Taxi.” She muttered. “Now, what did you ask me to come here for?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips. 

His ears perked up excitedly as he dug through his pockets. In his palm were two barely budding roses. “Watch, I’m just learning still but I’m sure this’ll interest you.” Taxi covered the roses with his other paw and a faint pink glow shined through his fingers. A few seconds later, he opened his palm and showed her vibrant pink and red roses in front of her. Her mouth was open wide, speechless as she covered her mouth. “Well? What do you think?” 

Orianna tackled the tabaxi in a hug, her arms wrapped around his neck as she smiled widely. “They’re absolutely beautiful, Taxi. You are going to be a great druid, I know it.” 

"You think so?"

"Without a single doubt, my love."

The two walked home hand in hand, the bright red rose tucked snuggly in Orianna’s hair while the pink one rested on top of Taxi’s head. 


	10. Day 10: Weak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demon arm boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heehoo my eyes hurt  
> Spoilers for arc 2 episode 23, 24, and 27

Sylnan snapped off the roll of bandages from his hand, opening and closing his fingers to check if the bandages were too tight. He tossed them over his shoulder on the bed and rolled his sleeves up, securing them around where his elbow was. 

He heard a deep growl from behind him but he didn’t turn to look at It. A ghostly dark purple hand rested on his shoulder, the breathing and growling closer to his ear.  **_“There you go again, covering me up as if I’m a mistake.”_ **

“That’s because you are one.” Sylnan snapped back.

**_“Don’t deny that you enjoy the power and advantage that I give you. I’ve saved your life many, many times.”_ **

The half-elf pushed the nonexistent clawed hands away from his shoulders, scoffed, and then stood up. “I don’t need you to protect myself or my friends. You don’t do shit but be annoying as hell.” 

It growled once again and then chuckled, sending chills down Sylnan’s spine.  **_“Soon. You’ll realize very soon just how weak you are, Sylnan Vengolor.”_ **

**** _ Knock knock _

“I’m coming, Br’aad.” Hand on the doorknob, he glanced over his shoulder to the roll of bandages sitting on the bed, ripped to shreds and littering the bed. 

* * *

Sylnan rewrapped his left arm, looking at the purple glowing lines with disgust as he wrapped over them. His clothes clung onto him uncomfortably, still dripping wet from the battle with the harpies. 

A hand grasped around his wrist just as he was about to rip the roll away. It clasped around tightly, almost feeling like it could break his wrist in one hard squeeze. “What the hell do you want now?” He growled, avoiding looking over his shoulders. 

**_“After all I’ve done for you to keep this ship afloat, you dare to hide away your biggest advantage?”_ ** It sounded angry, a little upset as it growled in his ear. 

“You keep saying advantage when really the only thing you have done is made my life a living hell.” He grumbled, trying to rip his arm away from it. 

**_“Without me, your weak body wouldn’t be able to stay alive another day. Everyone on this ship would’ve died if it wasn’t for me.”_ ** It growled, it’s grip tightening and squeezing so hard that Sylnan couldn’t hold a wince down.  **_“The crew, the captain, your friends, your little brother. They would all be dead if you hadn’t begged for me.”_ **

**** He finally managed to pull his arm away and stood up from the bed, keeping an eye on the shadowy purple figure standing at his bed and staring back at him. “I didn’t beg for you.” 

**_“Only weak people like you beg for someone with power like me.”_ **

* * *

Here he was again, changing and cleaning his clothes covered in white frosting and cake. Why did he even bother with the group he was in? Why did he even bother with staying on this ship with an asshole of a captain?

Now that he thought about it, why had he bothered to keep them alive? Being on this ship had only done nothing but almost tried to kill them. This entire journey had them all close to death. The only reason why Sylnan died was because he associated himself with this group.  **_It would’ve been better if_ ** -

He shook his head, rubbing his sticky face. What was he thinking? These were his friends, multiple lives, his  _ brother’s _ life he was talking about. He wouldn’t be able to do something like that, even if he was forced to. He would die first before playing with their lives. 

A low and deep growl echoed around him. He turned around, looking for the source when he saw It standing in the middle of the room, glaring at him with void like eyes.  **_“Everyone on this cursed ship is weak compared to what you are now, Sylnan.”_ ** It laughed, its arm reaching and stretching to pin him to the wall by lifting the half-elf up the wall. It’s clawed hand wrapped around his throat and held him there, kicking and gasping.  **_“Your emotions aren’t necessary when you have power; when you’re stronger now. You’re not a weak petty thief anymore, Sylnan Vengolor.”_ **

“I’ve,” he coughed, trying to claw and pull the hands away from his throat. “I’ve never been weak, you bastard.”

**“** **_Then try to break free from me, halfie.”_ ** It laughed once again, squeezing even harder. Sylnan’s vision was beginning to darken,his struggles were becoming less and he felt tired. His hands dropped to his side and he stopped kicking, letting the dark spots invade his vision. 

He crashed on the ground, coughing and wheezing for air. He tiredly rubbed his throat and looked down at his left arm that was throbbing. The purple veins were darker, glowing but they stood out even through the white bandages. A clawed hand appeared in place of his own and he tried to move away. He was frozen, stuck as he listened to the maniacal laughing of the demon.  **_“You’re learning now just how weak you truly are.”_ **


	11. Day 11: Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mountain reflects on the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I need to write Mountain a lot more. Love his character so much.

He hadn’t planned on befriending a rather weird bunch on his own travels. He didn’t plan on sticking around. He could’ve left and carried on, possibly never see them again and forever wonder what happened to the quirky bunch. If he never met the thief and his goblin, he probably would’ve sat in another tavern, downing as much mead as he could wondering if they were still alive or dead. He wouldn’t have lost a finger and then spend a long time looking for his locket. He could be alone in a tavern, getting drunk and starting bar fights. 

What was he doing in that place? He was watching his friends slowly beginning to doze off after a tiring day of fighting and running around while looking for each other. Velrisa was sober as usual, resting her tired head on the counter of the bar. The Vengolor brothers both passed out drunkenly, spilt alcohol wetting their faces and clothes. Taxi was surprisingly the last to pass out, completely drawing everything out and continuingly drinking pint after pint. After-what Mountain assumed-was his twentieth pint, Taxi’s forehead collided with the polished wood. 

Mountain scoffed, downing one last swig of his mead. “Can’t handle a bit of drinking.” He joked, looking down at his mastiff that sat next to him. Jack’s tongue hung out and he panted softly, staring at his owner with a smile. The dwarf reached down and pet his head, chuckling as Jack rubbed his head against his owner’s hand. “You’re the best drinking partner a man could ever have.” He complimented. 

He spent the next half an hour carrying his friends back to their rooms. He started with Velrisa, carrying her tired body to her room. The tiefling was a good person even though her own morals get in the way of his fun sometimes. She was also strong for someone so petite and small. He respected her in general, remembering all the times she saved his own life consistently and in return doing more damage than anyone else in their group. 

Next was Taxi. The tabaxi drunkenly stumbled to his room, Mountain keeping a close eye on him so that he wouldn’t wander off and start trouble (at least without him). The two had grown a little close to each other during their adventures and travels, sparring and having heart to heart conversations that he would never admit out loud. He was glad to have met him; to watch him grow stronger and improve on himself was one of the greatest things he had witnessed. 

Finally, Br’aad and Sylnan. Mountain didn’t know what he expected when Sylnan almost fought the dwarf because he  _ “tried to steal his dæggers'' _ . It was a struggle to get the thief up the stairs of his room, holding back his urge to knock him out and drag him instead. Br’aad was mostly out of reality, looking around as if he was looking for something or he didn’t recognize where he was or who he was with. A bunch of rambles slipped from his mouth and at some point the magic half-elf brother hurled. If he were to describe his experience with the Vengolor brothers in one word, he would describe them as confusing. Don’t ask him. 

Jack followed his owner to their room, immediately jumping on the bed and taking his spot at the end of the mattress. Mountain shucked off his weapons and gears, finally slipping underneath the covers and grinning to himself as he thought about all of the fun he had with his friends. He wouldn’t trade it for anything else. 


	12. Day 12: Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle of gods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No actual battle just something I thought was pretty good DM vs DM

Jared glared at Narwhal, holding his bag of dice in one hand and taking slow steps backwards. The being, the  _ god _ , in front of him wore a sly smirk, a floating d20 hovering above his palm. 

Lots of people confused them often. Jared was a regular guy, a DM of a dungeons and dragons podcast with his friends. Narwhal was basically him: dirty blond fluffy hair, glasses, same height and other physical features. However, Narwhal had a sharp horn protruding from his forehead and wore a dark blue robe that reminded him of a king. That’s how he wanted to be addressed, God King Narwhal. This man was sadistic, enjoyed the suffering of players screaming in agony at their low wisdom saving throws. 

“What is it this time, Narwhal?” Jared questioned, keeping a close eye on him. 

Narwhal clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Why do you always assume I want something?” He asked, pearly white sharp teeth flashing at him menacingly. “And to remind you, address me by my given and worthy title.”

“I’m not calling you that. That’s fucking stupid.” 

“Says the man who created me.” The sadistic god approached Jared, tossing the floating d29 in his hand and then catching it. Jared stared at the palm, expecting him to land on a natural 20 or a natural 1. “I only came here to raise a proposal. I think you’ll enjoy this game I have.” 

“Last time you said the party almost completely died again. I’m not taking anything from you. Go back to your plane of existence and stop bothering me.” Jared flipped him off, starting to turn his back and walking away. 

“This one doesn’t involve your precious party and my little toys.” The DM stopped in his tracks and glanced over his shoulders. “It’ll just be us. A battle of the Dungeon Masters. I know you wondered about this. However you probably came to the same solution every time: I am the superior god of this game you play and the world I live in.” He tossed the red, blue, and yellow dice into the air. “So unless you want to prove me wrong, you are required to call me God King Narwhal as someone so inferior to me.” Narwhal laughed, catching the falling dice and revealing a glowing  _ Just Roll With It God _ .

He could feel his palms sweating and his fingers twitching. “What are your rules?” He asked, pulling out his own navy blue d20 dice. “And by the way, no bullshitting or changing the rules again.” He pointed accusingly. 

Narwhal gave him a condescending smirk and held out his free hand. “Fine, I promise my friend.” He chuckled. “We’ll roll dice-mine and then yours or vice versa-and whoever has the highest consistent rolls above ten wins the game.” 

The DM raised an eyebrow, feeling a slight moment of deja vu flash before his eyes. “Is it only the title you want? Of whoever is the greater god?” He crossed his arms over his chest. 

Narwhal rolled his eyes. “What’s with all the questions today my friend?” 

“Just fucking tell me already, I want to get this over with.”

The god shook his head and sighed. “Yes, to prove that I am greater than you. Now, are you playing or are you baling?” He shoved his hand towards his counterpart, insisting on shaking it. 

Jared didn’t hesitate to grab his hand and shook it firmly, his other hand tossing the dice up and down on his palm. “You’re fucking on, bastard.” 


	13. Day 13: Clock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liveclock is a good cuddle buddy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of a panic attack  
> Spoilers for after episode 10 of arc 2

He knew it, he just knew it that  _ he _ was going to show up sometime soon. The question was  _ when  _ was he going to show his stupid smug face. His tattoos itched and and sent random jolts up his arms and throughout his body, making him twitch violently. There were scratch marks from his jagged nails flaring red and angry on his skin. They almost stood out from his gold tattoos. 

Br’aad rested his elbows on his knees, covering his ears to avoid the ticks and the tocs of a clock echoing in his room. There were little damp spots on his pants from the tears dropping from his eyes. He was shaking, his eyes darted frantically at every shadow he thought he saw moving. The half-elf wrapped his arms around himself and started biting his thumb, attempting to calm himself down. This was ridiculous, he was panicking and stressing himself over someone who’s been dealt with. At least for a little while. 

_ Why was he in so much distress? How did Ob'nockshai do this to him? To reduce him to tears at the sound of a clock ticking or chiming? Damn that bastard.  _

Br’aad looked over to his door, thinking about sneaking out and either waking one Sylnan or just going out for a walk. He tried to pick himself up but his body felt so tired, so heavy and he felt like his legs would immediately give up if he stood up now. Besides, he thought, his friends or Sylnan probably wouldn't be all that happy when their well deserved sleep gets interrupted because their friend can't hold in tears. 

He hiccupped and leaned forward again, elbows on his knees again as he put his face in his hands. What to do, what to do. He choked on a sob as he snapped his fingers and heard a small  _ poof _ in front of him. The gross little murmurs of his familiar had him sighing in relief. He picked his head back up and the little gazer went straight towards his chest, nuzzling and babbling something incoherent. The other parts of his limbs ticking his already sensitive skin and Br'aad didn't mind it one bit. He found comfort in those little limbs of his. 

The half-elf hugged Liveclock back, his quivering lips going up in a small smile. “Thank you, Liveclock.” He croaked, rubbing his cheek gently against his familiar’s round head and chuckling weakly at his familiar's imitation. Liveclock always knew what to do. The familiar didn't even have to be told. It surprised the half-elf every time. The gazer had a knack for comforting him, for just being there when his friend needed some comfort. The best cuddle and panic attack buddy anyone could've asked for. 

Liveclock was the only good thing to come out of being in a pact with Ob’nockshai. Though he was designed by the deity himself, he didn’t mind looking at his cute clock like eye and the purple. He was just glad that he could have a little friend with him to have for comfort and company when he was in stressful situations. 

Br’aad laid back on the bed, rubbing his tired and sore eyes. He wasn’t sure what time it was but he couldn’t hear the annoying ticks. His nose was running like never before and his eyes hurt to keep open. But at least he had someone by his side, to keep him safe and to just be a good familiar. 

“Night, Liveclock.” He murmured hoarsely, giving Liveclock a gentle pat and rub on his shiny head before closing his eyes for the night with hopeful thoughts. 

_ Tick, Tock _

_ Tick, Tock _

_ Tick, To- _

_ God Fucking damnit- _


	14. Day 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family is all you need.

Mountain did long for a family. Perhaps a part of him still does. He and Hilda were happily married, running a tavern together. They had discussed raising a child, both very excited to have a child. That dream burned in ashes right after their tavern burned down and Hilda’s public hanging. There wasn’t a single day where he didn’t think about her and imagined what life would be life if she was alive and if they raised a family together.

Taxi didn’t feel at  _ home _ with his family, with his clan. It was his home, yes, but he didn’t feel like he was truly at  _ home _ . His father didn’t help and neither was his mother’s death. Though he was shunned away from his clan for pursuing druidcraft, Taxi was glad that he could go out and explore with Orianna. Yet he longed to be a part of a group, a  _ family _ . What was it like? Would he fit in with them? How would they treat him?

Sylnan and Br’aad were the only family they ever knew their whole lives. They only had each other to rely on as they stole and lived on the streets. Sylnan had a better yet vague idea of family, remembering that he was once a son of a mother and father. He remembers his mother’s gentle voice and her smile in his dreams and he wants to burst into tears sometimes because he longs to have that again. Br’aad doesn’t have any of those memories or familiarities like his older brother does. He never experienced having a mother or a father, he’s only ever known a brother who looks out for him. Some nights he envies Sylnan and wonders what his life was like before the younger brother came and ruined everything for his older brother. 

Velrisa was abandoned by her own family because she was cursed with infernal blood. They didn’t want anything to do with her and casted her away. Ander was always there for her, filling in the role of her father when he was just her uncle. He introduced her to their goddess Weejas and helped her in her journey to becoming a cleric devoted to her. The tiefling fondly looks back at memories of Ander teaching healing spells and words to her, when he helped her up when kids threw hurtful words and rocks for being the devil. He was always there for her when she needed him the most. 

Sat around the campfire, Br’aad sang and told unbelievable stories that he swore were true. They laughed and smiled at his goofy antics, bursting out into laughter when he tried to get Taxi to participate in a skit and then both of them bumping heads. Mountain looked around, drinking another swig of his flask. He doesn’t think he would trade anything for them. Sylnan and Br’aad end up in a wrestling match, playfully taunting each other as they both think that this is enough. Taxi sits back next to Velrisa, watching the two brothers fight and roll around on the grass. This is all they needed, all they wanted. This was their weird little family. 

The Fated Five. Yeah, it wasn't always ideal, but it was all they needed. 


	15. Day 15: Stupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ugarth's inner demon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, it's so short but I thought it was kinda cute and I didn't want to go overboard.   
> TW: Self depreciating thoughts and language  
> (P.S. You are very valid and you are amazing, don't let anyone believe otherwise.)

Ugarth broke the tip of the quill, little splotches of ink scattered around the tattered pages of his journal.  _ “Fuck.” _ He mumbled, taking the tip and feather and setting them aside. That was the fifth one he had broken this week. The half-orc looked at the page, reading it over once more. The blotches didn’t ruin any of the writing, but it was just annoying dots scattered around and slowly drying. 

He was going to have to find a new way to let it all out or else he might just explode with pent up frustrations and emotions. 

In the back of his head, he heard and felt a low rumble followed by a gruff and deep voice.  **_“Even when you do the littlest things you always manage to screw everything up. Sad excuse and waste of my great blood.”_ ** Ugarth slammed the journal shut and shoved it out of sight. He wasn’t going to deal with this, not now. Not when he could easily just punch someone if he snapped. 

The voice in his head was persistent. No matter how long he could suppress that voice or ignore it, it never failed to come back and taunt him,  _ mock him _ , of everything that he was. He was never good enough for the voice to leave him alone. It commented and insulted his every move, his every word, his every action. 

**_“Only an idiot would think of something that stupid. You don’t deserve the title of a monk when you’re completely idiotic.”_ ** Somehow he managed to believe that voice that he would never be enough. Not to himself, not to the voice in his head, and even to his friends. 

_ He was stupid, he was undeserving, he was nothing. He shouldn’t be able to walk upon any plane of existence. Stupid, stupid, stu _ **_pid, Stupid, Stupid, StuPID, STUPID, STU-_ **

A knock interrupted his thoughts. They were gentle yet firm and a familiar, warm voice came.  _ “Ugarth?”  _ Sylnan Vengolor called for him, knocking once more.  _ “You ready to go man? We gotta finish this job soon.” _

Ugarth couldn’t hear that low rumble or that voice anymore as soon as his partner spoke. He sighed in relief, wiping away tears that he hadn’t noticed until now. He sniffled, taking deep breaths and looking over to where he threw his journal. He picked it up and put it away, silently promising that he would go and buy a few new quills. 

_ “Ugarth, you better not be asleep.” _ Followed by more knocking. 

The half-orc softly chuckled and replied, “I’m coming out, don’t get your cloak in a twist.” 

_ “You ass, don’t bring that up!” _

The two partners walked down to the docks side by side, playfully shoving and laughing. Sometimes he wondered how a thief, a half-elf, his best friend, could make those words go away. He didn’t feel so stupid around him. He didn’t feel stupid as he laughed and flicked the brunet’s fedora. For now, he didn’t have to worry about that stupid voice. For now, he has a friend by his side. 


	16. Day 16: Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daycare au, Br'aad brings in a book to the daycare!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the late uploads, I got busy with school and everything! Also this is my daycare au that I am absolutely in love with! I hope you enjoy!

“And-and then we can go on big adventures together!” Br’aad yelled, throwing his hands up and looking down at Taxi and Velrisa who stared at him in awe. 

“Big adventures? What kind, Br’aad?” Narwhal asked, smiling as he set down the marker and crayon boxes. 

The blond looked up at him and smiled widely. “I have a big book and-and it’s  _ this big! _ ” Br’aad opened his arms and puffed his chest, most likely exaggerating the thickness of this said book. “Dad gave it to me! He said my reading is so good!” He said, giggling and bouncing up and down on his feet. Sylnan didn’t look too amused and rolled his eyes. 

The caretaker crouched next to the eccentric blond, hands on the table to support his balance. “That is so awesome, Br’aad.” He praised, giving him a small pat on the head. “I’m sure it’s a great book.” 

Br’aad nodded his head and ran over to his cubby, dragging a fairly heavy leather covered book. It was purple with gold outlines, looking a bit torn and old to be any kind of child’s book. He waddled back to the table, plopping the large book in the middle of the table. It shook the table slightly, a little hey or two from Sylnan and or Taxi. “Mr. Narwhal, can you read this to us before nap time?” Begged the younger. 

Jared agreed, keeping the book next to their napping corner while he prepared for lunch. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the book. On one hand, Brenden Vengolor gave it to his youngest son who-even though he excelled in reading-still struggled with pronouncing a few of the bigger words like all the other children. On the other hand, he was glad that Br’aad wanted to read. Intelligent young boy, yet he was missing one or few million future brain cells. 

Br’aad rambled and blurted out a few things from the book he read and at the time Narwhal should have known. Yet, he imagined that Br’aad didn’t understand what he was saying and sometimes his words combined together. 

_ He should’ve known what this big adventure really was. _

After the children and the caretaker washed up and put away their plates, they immediately flocked to the nap corner, Br’aad holding the worn book in his lap. He smiled and squeezed into the middle, back leaning against the corner and already flipping through the book. Most of the words-or perhaps  _ ruins _ -were perplexing. He’s never seen text like this, big and unfamiliar. They look like straight out of a fantasy movie. 

“Br’aad, you can read this?” Jared asked, flipping through each page to find one that wasn’t just glowing purple gibberish. 

“I can read a lot of them, but sometimes I can’t and then I get a big headache.” Br’aad replied.

Sylnan chimed in, yawning softy. “He also keeps saying he hears clocks and tickings.” he shrugged, leaning against Jared while Br’aad leaned back into his brother, both of them giggling. 

He should’ve listened to the red flags, the sudden feeling of a drop in his stomach when he saw the ruins flow a faint purple. Jared sighed in frustration and flipped the book to the back. There was a picture of a circle with a large hourglass figure in the middle. Other ruins surrounded the smaller circle and the only ones he could remember was  _ deal _ and  _ trickery _ . He flipped the page once more and on the back was normal, common text. He wanted to yell in triumph but riling children up excitedly was almost deadly. 

So he began reading. The Fated Five, heroes setting out to destroy a giant turtle god while also fooling around. Jared couldn’t decipher the ruins that he assumed were the names of these heroes. Br’aad continued pointing to each ruin and ever so sleepily said a name. By the time Jared was halfway through, the children were fast asleep on him. 

The caretaker shimmied his way out of the nap pile, keeping his finger on the page and the line he finished on. There was a man in the story that sounded oddly familiar:  _ Ob’nockshai _ was the name of a god one of the protagonists in the book who they frequently toyed with because it was amusing. Jared quickly skimmed the words, skipping over the faint glow and ignoring the hollow pit forming in his stomach as he read the malice in the words. Every sentence was harsh, every line acted as an insult towards the group as they journeyed on in different cities and towns. 

_ I don’t like this book,  _ he kept telling himself, chewing his bottom lip as he walked over to Br’aad cubby and sliding the large book inside the small cube compartment.  _ Whoever wrote this probably thought it would be a funny prank _ , he attempted to reason. The pit in his stomach continued hollowing and shivers ran up his spine. He couldn’t forget the last line of the book, the one that seemed illogical and self-centric, had him turning around the children. 

A tall man, perhaps taller than Jared himself, wearing a tailored and expensive suit and trench coat stood towering over the children. They made eye contact, Jared’s brown eyes meeting cold purple locked. 

The man smirked at him, his hands put behind his back.  _ “Did you like my book? I liked the ending, wrote it myself. What was it again?”  _ The man pondered, scratching his well kept peach fuzz.  _ “Ah, right, I remember now. And so they died, all of them. Who only stood victorious on the plane of existence was the god himself, awaiting the next set of adventures who dare and try to stop him with a smile.” _


	17. Day 17: Br'aad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Br'aad is a pretty good therapist?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAA i am sleepy and so behind.

Br’aad sort of thought of himself as someone easy to talk to. Despite his eccentric and playful moods, he was fantastic to talk to freely if someone needed to get stuff off their chest. 

The Vengolor brothers always got along with each other. They went almost everywhere together. They were joined at the hip, almost inseparable from each other. However, there are times where Sylnan bottles things up and refuses to talk it out. He would sometimes lie or snap at his brother or the people around him. He didn’t blame Sylnan. His brother needed some kind of outlet and usually he held himself together for the sake of their survival on the streets. 

It was one of those nights where Sylnan decided to get completely wasted that he couldn’t really control anything. The older Vengolor wanted to drown his emotions in fifteen pints of alcohol. Br’aad was sober enough to help him to his room at the inn, listening to the slight strings of babbles and slurred speech spilling out of his mouth. 

“I’m sorry..” He slurred, leaning back onto the bed limply and weightlessly. 

Br’aad didn’t think it was going to be serious. “It’s okay.” He muttered, helping him get comfortable. 

“I wish I did more for you..” Sylnan muttered, grabbing the blond’s wrist. “I’m sorry for yelling at you and running away..I think about that night every day before..before going to sleep..”

It kind of caught the half-elf off guard and his muscles tensed. He already forgave Sylnan and he never thought that it was his brother’s fault for making the pact and then the next day running off. “It’s okay, ‘Nan.” He smiled. “It was never your fault and even if it was, I’ve already forgiven you for it.” 

His brother smiled drunkenly and then began praising him, saying that Br’aad was always so smart and quick-witted with his words and that he was the greatest little brother anyone could ever ask for. Br’aad left the room with a small smile. 

* * *

Mountain wasn’t typically very open with his emotions or his past. He kept it guarded and it was a rare chance that you’d be able to get him to talk about how he feels. He had a loose tongue when he was drunk, but sometimes some of the stuff he says seems a little far fetched that most people took it with a grain of salt.

On a shared watch, him and Br’aad were surveying the surrounding forest while their friends took their deserved rest around the warm fireplace. Br’aad shivered, wrapping his purple cape around his shaking body and his teeth clattered slightly. Mountain on the other hand was staring down at his palms, seemingly unfazed by the cold. 

The half-elf took a small glance at the golden item in his hands, noticing it was a locket with a picture of a woman inside. He assumed it was his wife since he doesn’t recall the dwarf discussing any other women in his life. 

“I miss her everyday,” Mountain muttered, closing the locket and slipping it around his neck again. “No matter how many times I try to forget and just drink, I always think of her. I miss her smile, her laugh, her voice. I miss dancing in the empty tavern with her to a slow bard song. I miss waking up next to her and opening up the tavern every day with her by my side.” 

He didn’t have much to relate to, so he proceeded to keep his mouth shut. 

“I don’t know what I did wrong. One day you’re serving drinks and chatting with the locals and then the next day your livelihood is burned to ashes and your love in hung from a noose for no fucking reason.” He continued with sharp malice. “ _ I don’t understand.” _

Br’aad shifted around on his spot and looked up. “I don’t think you did anything wrong. I don’t think I can imagine you doing something that would hurt you and your wife.”

There was an awkward silence between them. The small and slow fire crackled and pop softly next to them. The half-elf heard the screw of a cap popping back and then a few audible gulps followed after. “I would never hurt her. She was my everything. I just wish I could hold her one more time.” Br’aad looked at the dwarf, wrapping his arms around his knees and pulling himself into a small ball of warmth. “But I’m glad that you guys are here to help me forget without the mead.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

Taxi had a lot of emotional baggage, it wasn’t too subtle either. Every now and then his tabaxi friend would drop a little depressed sentence here or there. Though he never pried, he always wondered what brought him to being shy and awkward. 

It wasn’t an unusual night for Taxi to walk into his sleep roll or room in an inn and ask to be cuddled and just to simply listen. Sometimes Taxi talked about the same topic, resting his furry little head on his friend’s pants. Br’aad never minded when his best friend cried. He needed it, he needed an outlet. Normally the blond would talk and tell quick puns here and there, but it was Taxi he was helping and it wouldn’t do much to say anything. Thus, he sat in the dark while listening to the tabaxi ramble and sob. The night would end with the two snuggling next to each other asleep. 

He doesn’t know how he does it, but it was nice seeing his friends let their emotions out and feeling a little better about their own burdens. It made him forget his own burdens weighing down on him and forgetting that every night he would muffle his sobs. 


	18. Day 18: Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brenden has finally taken the Wharf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Slight mentions of gore, nothing explicit.  
> Spoiler Warning for arc 1 episode 19.

He knew how wrong it was. He wasn’t blind to what he had become, to how he managed to get himself to the top. Miriam would shake her head if she saw him now: powerful, people at his feet and begging for their lives. He felt delirious and the tingling in his fingers was numbing. 

_ He hated every bit of it. _

He sat upon the throne, clutching the golden sidearms. He still wasn’t able to forget the sight of beheading the disgusting king: blood splattered everywhere and on himself as he watched the head roll to the side. Rigmund’s eyes were wide and his fat mouth open. Alduin swallowed down the vomit at the memory. As much as he hated that gluttonous and sad excuse for a king, he couldn’t smile at it.  _ Oh Miriam, _ he thought,  _ I am so sorry for the evil I’ve become. I hope you can forgive me, my love. _

Who was he kidding? How could she ever forgive a monster like him? He abandoned his sons, leaving them in an orphanage to be picked on and bullied. He watched them suffer from the shadows, almost starving themselves to death or almost dying of sickness. He watched his youngest son sell his soul, just like he himself did so long ago. He watched them fight, drift away, and reunite with each other. 

He kidnapped Sylnan and Mountain, physically threatening them to stay out of his way. He regretted that day so much. He wasn’t supposed to get involved with them, he wasn’t supposed to put them in harm. 

When he got the news of Sylnan’s death, he didn’t have time to react before Ungaroh growled deep in his head and began ordering the elf around. Every day was torture. The evil coursed through his veins yet he didn’t want any of it. He made the pact to stay alive, to dethrone the king, to hopefully have a relationship with his sons. 

Unfortunately, it all came true. 

Guards barged into the room and he looked up at them. They shakily saluted to Brenden, trying to avoid eye contact with him. “Sir, the prisoners are requesting an audience with you.” One of them said, his voice sounding strained. “He says he wants you to see what you have done.” 

Brenden sighed and stood up, clutching his briefcase in his hand tightly. “If he insists so.” He said, cold and calm. He walked past the guards who bowed and saluted to him. His knees were shaking and his heart was beating as he traveled down to the dungeons. 

He passed many cells, some of them smelling damp and something like rotting corpses. He tried to pay no mind to the rats scurrying around his feet. 

He wasn’t sure how he memorized the turns and halls so easily. He had only visited them twice since their imprisonment. The halls slowly got dimmer, less light in every hall he traveled deeper into. He heard soft sobs and feral growls as he got closer to the end. 

To his right sat an unconscious purple tiefling, her breathing shallow and chains wrapped tightly around her ankles and wrist. The cell next to her contained an almost unrecognizable tabaxi, his green eyes no longer holding any humanity in it. Brenden stopped to look at him and he would be lying if he said he didn’t jump when the cat tried breaking its cell door down. He took a deep breath before continuing to walk, walking past the cell with the sobered dwarf. They didn’t have many fun talks, just empty threats and no alcohol to keep the fighter occupied. 

It took a little longer to get to the brothers' cell. It might’ve been the fact his pace got much slower and the air didn’t smell like glitter like the usual two times he came down. He could hear soft sobs from the cell and he stopped a little before coming into view. He could turn back now, no more sympathy for his sons. Soon they’ll all rot in their cells and no one could stop him or Ungaroh’s evil plans to flood the world. He could walk away and pretend to forget that he ever wished for a family. He could go back to being an evil man.

_ He took that step. _

Though it was almost dark and no lighting was around, Brenden knew what had happened. The older brother cradled the blond’s head, sobbing and letting the tears fall onto the younger’s pale face. His lips looked blue and his clothes were dripping wet. No wonder why the air smelled a little more normal than usual when he came down. 

He stared at his son’s face, biting his lip to keep it from quivering. Sylnan turned his head to him and immediately he came charging to the cells, grabbing his father’s coat and pulling him against the bars. “You..it’s all your god damn fault!” He yelled, shaking him back and forth. Sylnan reeked of blood and dirty, dried crimson staining his familiar features. He wished that he didn’t look like her. “Why did he have to die? Tell me, why do you come up with these evil plans?!” He yelled, tears flowing freely from his broken brown eyes. 

Brenden clenched onto the briefcase once more, looking at his oldest son in the eyes with a dead expression.  _ “Don’t throw around a word you don’t know the meaning of, boy.” _


	19. Day 19: Free Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DM Au where Narwhal and Jared are two different entities and Slimcicle and Charlie are also different entities. DMs are gods of the world, holders of the dice and are supposed to let the dice choose fate. Narwhal has taken Slime under his wing to become a DM.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh yes this is a concept me and other people from the Trenchcoat discord server decided this is going to be our brain rot. I love the idea and this is a sneak peak of what I'm currently working on.

Slimecicle used to enjoy playing games like this. It used to be for fun, to let the young god get used to the unexpected and unpredictable rolls. Maybe that’s where he picked up his personality from: unpredictable, chaotic,  _ annoying _ .

Narwhal allowed his red, blue, and gold dice to leave his palm, glowing a bright and shimmering  _ 20 _ . 

Slime chewed his nails, almost angrily or in anxiousness.  **_”Can’t handle the consequences anymore, Slimecicle?”_ ** Narwhal playfully teased.  **_”You aren’t usually so riled up, you know. Perhaps you’re losing your touch, perhaps it isn’t your lucky day.”_ **

_ ”The dice don’t discriminate.”  _ Slime muttered out, still chewing on his nail. Narwhal felt uneasy, the room feeling slightly darker or tense. 

He wiped his palm on his robes and cleared his throat. **_”Correct.”_ **

Slimecicle’s eyes shifted to Narwhal’s eyes, sharp and aggressive.  _ ”The dice don’t discriminate.” _ he repeated, grabbing his own shiny green d20.

**_”You’re stalling, my boy.”_ ** Narwhal attempted to keep his composure, his eyes narrowed at the younger god. **_”If you have nothing else to say, then I suggest you let the dice-“_ **

_ ”The dice don’t discriminate is what you always say.” _ Slime slammed his bright green die on the table hard enough that Narwhal couldn’t help but flinch at. _ ”But you never told me the dice pick sides.” _

He was so startled that he couldn’t do more than stare. There was so much malice, so much anger in his voice.  **_”This is only a game, Slimecicle. I thought you liked games.”_ **

_ ”So you don’t deny that the dice pick sides?” _

He should’ve kept his mouth shut.  **_”And why would I do that?”_ **

_”I fucking knew it.”_ He slumped back on his chair, hanging his head low and his dirty blond hair covering most of his face from Narwhal’s view. _”I knew it, I knew it,_ **you knew it**.” Narwhal has never had any frightening chills down his spine. No, he was the one people should be fearing. He couldn’t be afraid. He shouldn’t have been afraid of a _child’s_ voice getting deeper and filling with more malice.

_ ”You..”  _ Still hanging his head low and bangs covering his eyes, he stood up from his chair and slowly walked over to Narwhal. His hand reaching over for his own velvet dice pouch and the other hand holding his green die. 

**_”Sit back down, Slimecicle.”_ ** He ordered, narrowing his eyes at the younger god. He didn’t stop. The older god didn’t realize until Slimecicle stood only a few feet away how much taller he was than he originally thought.  **_”Slimecicle.”_ ** he growled out, almost like a warning. 

_ ”Roll intimidation, old man.” _


	20. Day 20: Deity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katherine has some alone time in her domain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hnnnggg I love Kath I am simp but ya know.

Katherine leaned against the beautiful fountain, dipping her finger and slowly dragging it across the water. The ripples in the water distorted his reflection and she giggled softly. She appreciated the little things and although it was a bit lonely being a goddess with no one in your own little plane of existence was depressing, she found stuff amusing that she probably would never have thought if she was a mortal still. Sylnan prayed to her frequently just to check up on her, but it wasn’t the same as spending days together and cuddling. She missed his warmth engulfing her into a tight embrace, his greasy hair, his little soul patch that he always insisted on keeping no matter how hard she tried to convince him to shave off. 

The deity waved her hand over her reflection, watching it twist and ripple until it became a clear image of the Fated Five resting. She liked the warm sun in her domain so it almost threw her off when she noticed how dark it was. 

There were freshly wrapped bandages around them and they had dark circles around their eyes. They must be exhausted after fighting an enemy. She smiled and muttered a little, “sleep well” to them before she stood up and walked away from her fountain. Playing with crystal clear water was fun, but sometimes it didn’t help to stretch her legs. 

Katherine roamed through the field of gold, her face up to the beaming warm sun and her hair in the light breeze. She wished she could experience it with other people or that she wished she had this sort of calm while she was alive in the Wharf. 

As she continued walking through the fields of flower and gold, she began to notice the color fading away. As she traveled further away from the fountain, the fields were beginning to look like ash and dead flowers were laid in front of her. She looked up and searched through the horizon. She could see up ahead that it was dark, a purple hue to it. The sun was no more, heavy grey clouds shadowing over her. She shivered, rubbing her arms to create friction and warm. There was no only dirt at her feet, no little tickles from flowers she walked past. 

“Something’s wrong.” She said through chattering teeth, turning around to the fountain and sprinting towards it. How far had she gone? She wasn’t able to see the glowing white fountain as she continued to run at her fastest. Her chest felt tight and so she collapsed on her knees, pressing a hand against her ribs and wheezing for air. How long was she running for? She smacked her lips, swallowing to keep her throat from dry coughing. 

The clouds above continued to grow darker and the surrounding field began wilting, turning to ash or they laid dead around her. Katherine sniffled and slowly pushed herself up, making another dash to the fountain. 

Finally, it came into sight. However, the gold on the edges looked like rusty metal and there was no crystal clear water spouting out from it. Jagged purple lines jutted out, though they were still, the goddess couldn’t shake off the feeling that she was being watched and threatened. 

There were multiple sharp jabs in her side and rib cage. She once again collapsed onto the dirt, coughing and wheezing. Her limbs were shaking and she fell to her side, too weak to hold herself up. She reached her hand towards the fountain, mumbling and dragging herself there. 

Something pressed onto her neck and forced her to stay down, hearing her pained cries. She couldn’t turn her head to look at her assailant. She once again reached for the fountain, this time calling out a name. “ _ Sylnan..please..help me.”  _

The man with his shoe on her neck snickered.  _ “Adorable, asking for help from your followers when you can’t fight me off.”  _ The pressure on her neck added on. She was almost kissing and breathing in dirt.  _ “I can’t judge however. You are an amateur after all. You have worldly attachments and you’re above them all. Why bother?” He teased, finally getting off her neck. Katherine scrambled backwards, looking up at the tall man in front of her. “Have I introduced myself yet? I think we have a lot in common and I want to speak to you without any disturbances. Deity to deity?” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is all really crappy writing to far.


	21. Day 21: Nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylnan x Katherine date brain rot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this shitty? Yes. Am I sleep? Perhaps. Do I love Kathnan? ........Yes.
> 
> Listen I just wrote and typed head gone thoughts empty.

Sylnan combed back his hair, the light and clean hair not easily being held in place. Even though he was thankful for a bath at Jacquot’s house, he was starting to grow frustrated with the loose strands refusing to stay down. Maybe he did miss his greasy hair. 

“Sylnan, she’s here!” He heard Br’aad’s voice echo from outside the factory. The half-elf rushed to the open window and took a quick peek, immediately noticing Katherine and Br’aad talking and laughing. He felt so unprepared. He was supposed to pick her up, walk her to their date and whatnot (according to the noble french man). 

He grabbed his cloak and hurriedly threw it on, jogging down to his brother and Katherine. He slowed down when he got closer, taking in her soft golden glow. Her hair looked like a light cloud and she smiled kindly at one of Br’aad’s horrible jokes, small little dimples on her beautiful face. 

Her soft brown eyes looked at him and he wanted to fall to his knees at her widened smile. “Are you ready?” She asked him. 

Sylnan covered his mouth with his hand and nodded, his face warm and heart thudding violently in his chest. “Y-yeah, I’m ready when you are.” He stammered. 

They’ve been seeing each other for a couple of weeks and every time her nature was so warm and soft that he couldn’t help but fall for her more and more every day.    
They ventured slightly further away from the Wharf and into the surrounding forest, smiling and chatting about how their day was. He avoided talking about his side jobs, being a little vague and focusing on how her day went. Katherine mentioned how she gave the orphans in that horrid Wharfanage warm treats and helped a lost and wandering child home. She was everything good, one of the only things good about living in the Wharf. 

“So where are you taking me?” She asked him, walking by his side with her hand locked in his. “We’ve been walking for quite a bit. Do you have a surprise planned?” 

Sylnan only chuckled and continued walking, squeezing her soft and small hands. “Fine, keep your secrets.” She giggled. The soft breeze filled their silence as he led her to an open field. He had to thank Ugarth and Br’aad for helping him out. 

Katherine gasped at the display: strings of small lights hung above the field of golden flowers. She let go of his hand and put her hands over her mouth, rapidly blinking away tears. “Sylnan..” her voice was high pitched and small. 

“I thought you might like stargazing and so I set this up for us to relax and watch.” He explained sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I hope this is enough, I know it’s nothing extravagant-”

“You are truly the romantic, Sylnan.” She interrupted him, jumping up and wrapping her arms around his neck and embracing him. Sylnan smiled and hugged her back, arms wrapped around her waist. “Out of the city and into the beautiful nature with you? What more could a woman ask for from you?” She wiped her joyful tears against his cloak. 

They laid on the cold grass, quietly staring up into the starry night sky that they would never see in the Wharf. He wrapped his navy blue cloak around her to keep her warm, listening to her describe random points the little dots in the sky made. To be away from that shit-hole of a home and into the gentle nature outside while being embraced by a warm goddess was all that he could ask for. 

“Did Br’aad and Ugarth help you?”

“...Yes..”


	22. Day 22: Dice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More DM au! What happened to Slimecicle?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an au, I am merely using their personas and none of this is a reflection upon Jared and Charlie.

**_“As a DM, as a holder of fate, you must put all your trust into the dice. They decide what you or your players do. The dice don’t discriminate.”_ ** Narwhal said, holding his glowing blue and red d20 in his palm. His protegé, young and bright minded, stared in awe at the golden edges and engraved numbers.  **_“Never disgrace your dice. Faking your rolls will not only result in consequences for your world, but to yourself._ ** ” He narrowed his eyes at Slimecicle, suspecting that he wasn’t listening to his warning.  **_“Do I make myself clear?”_ **

He got an excited nod, his eyes still focused on his palm. Narwhal rolled his eyes and closed his hand, carefully putting the dice into his own navy blue velvet bag.  **_“I trust that you won’t do them any injustice.”_ ** He stalled, digging through his robes for Slime’s own dice. 

He nodded and straightened his back, a bright smile on his face. “I promise, I promise I will make you and the dice proud.” 

Narwhal tapped his nails slowly against the table, glaring at the empty seat across from him. He needed to have a talk with him, about his actions and the accusations of him tampering with the rolls. He wasn’t prepared for the change. The eccentric young DM who he took under his wing had turned into a storm: chaotic and unpredictable. He hadn’t seen the young god for months, or perhaps a year. The last he saw him was a surprise and a mystery that he was still unable to figure out. He had a broken plank stabbed into the top of his head and green, translucent slime running down from his dirty blond hair. His white and green robes had been discarded or somewhere and the young god switched his elegant metal brown and green die with something less than worthy. 

An hour passed and Narwhal’s patience was beginning to lose patience. His tapping seized and he was rolling his dice between his fingers as he gritted his teeth.  **_“You’re late.”_ ** He growled. 

Slimecicle emerged from the shadows, a sly smirk on his face as he plopped himself down on the chair. His hair stuck up randomly, tousled and just a mess. His robes were draped down to his elbows instead of respectfully resting on his shoulders. The random plank looked smaller, but it still concerned Narwhal at how he was able to not seem bothered by it.  _ “You shouldn’t expect a lot out of me. _ ” Was his voice shaking?

Jared raised an eyebrow before leaning forward to the table, hands laced together.  **_“Explain why your players have been complaining about you being an unfair DM.”_ **

_ “Unfair? I’m simply doing what the dice tell me to do. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do as a holder of fate?”  _ He replied snarkily, shifting in his chair. He was shaking, his eyes twitching and unable to keep his smirk from faltering.  _ “That is your rule. I’m only following and if my players don’t appreciate it, then they can find themselves another DM.”  _

**_“Don’t be a smartass with me, Slimecicle. I don’t take these accusations with a grain of salt.”_ ** Narwhal slammed his fist on the table, standing up and pushing his chair backwards.  **_“Disgracing your dice is bad enough, but fibbing your rolls? That is a heinous crime in itself and will result negatively-”_ **

_ “Fibbing?”  _ He snapped defensively.  _ “Such a big word for a small brain god.”  _ There was something that unsettled Narwhal. The look he gave him, twitchy eyed with tears brimming at the corner of his eyes and his voice so cracked and shaky.  _ “And a bold accusation for someone who knows little to nothing about me.” _

**_“That is not my own fault. You’ve changed significantly. You are unpredictable and it’s hard enough to get you here.”_ ** Narwhal complained, his jaw was sore from grinding his teeth for so long. 

_ “Because I don’t want to see you! You’re always on my ass about everything; about being a god and that I have to trust in the dice!” _ Tears were beginning to spill, his hands slammed onto the table and the chair falling backwards with a slight  _ clash _ .  _ “I thought you said you could trust me but it’s obvious-” _

_ Clack, clack,clack. _

The room felt eerily silent and Slime looked down at the d20 in the middle of the table. A golden glow of the number _20_ shined. **_“You’re always so full of funny stories. Unfortunately for you, the rolls are in my favor.”_** The glow faded quickly and reappeared in Narwhal's palm. _**"Explain."**_


	23. Day 23: Rat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More daycare au!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heehoo

Narwhal had checked every room, every cabinet and closet. Under the tables and under his own desk, yet he still couldn’t find Sylnan Vengolor. The rest of the children were outside in the playground when he noticed the oldest child was missing. Not wanting to alarm the other children, he let them play (while unofficially putting Velrisa in charge) while he went searching for Sylnan. He knew he was sneaky and was exceptionally good at hiding, but after looking in every nook and cranny he could think of, he couldn’t find him. 

_Did he slip past me? Is he outside?_ Jared took another quick glance around the daycare before rushing to the playground. Luckily and thankfully they were huddled in a circle while Br’aad was showing off something to the other two. Sylnan wasn’t usually the type to be around Velrisa or Taxi, but he and Br’aad were inseparable. Joined at the hip, almost like they could stack up on each other (and they tried).

_Maybe he was sick?_ He saw the two brothers run into the daycare this morning and he remembers dragging the older brother away from the arts and crafts closet so that he wasn’t able to sneak away the glitter for his brother. Or was that yesterday? 

He did get home late last night and only slept a couple of hours before consuming large amounts of caffeine and driving to the daycare. Was he going crazy? Was he just tired and perhaps forgot that it was Br’aad who walked in alone?

He felt a tug at his hoodie sleeves and looked down, seeing the three children circling him. Br’aad was smiling, hands behind his back. Jared put on a grin and crouched to the kid’s level. “Is there something you want to show me, Br’aad?” He asked. 

“Have you seen Sylnan?” The caretaker’s heart felt like it had stopped. 

Jared began to stammer. “I..yes?” He answered with uncertainty. 

“Then where is he?” Taxi asked, his big green eyes staring at him confused. 

_Was he really going to lie to these kids?_ “He’s inside.” _The answer was yes._

The three looked at each other for a moment, leaving the caretaker to break out into a sweat before they began giggling. _Is this a dream?_ Br’aad shoved his hands at Jared’s face, forcing the man to ball back on his rear and staring at a small, brown furred rat in the younger Vengolor’s hands. “Ta-da!” The boy giggled. “It’s Sylnan!”

Immediately, Jared took the rat in Br’aad’s hands as the caretaker instincts kicked in. “You can’t pick up wild animals, Br’aad. I thought you learned last time.” He scolded, walking over to the fence. The rat in his hands squirmed and nibbled at his hands. Hopefully it wasn’t going to bite but he wasn’t going to take chances. He didn’t want to be responsible for one of the kids getting a disease. “Leave the animals alone and we won’t have a problem.” He got ready to toss it over the fence when he heard crying from behind him. He turned around and saw the kids running to him, tackling his leg and sobbing into his pants. “Stop! Stop!” They begged. 

A startling pinch surged pain in his hands and he dropped the rat, wincing and hissing in pain. Fuck, he hoped that it didn’t break the skin. The rat dropped to the ground and there was a small puff of smoke. Once the smoke faded, Sylnan Vengolor was rubbing his back and was tackled in a group hug. He was going to have to deal with the rat situation later, right now he had four kids sobbing to calm down. _Oh boy._

* * *

Jared slumped back into his desk chair, letting it roll backwards before he slipped down on the carpet ground. He was going to need to sleep for an entire day after today. After he was able to get Br’aad to calm down, the boy explained that Sylnan was able to turn into a rat for a little bit due to some incident with a neighbor or theirs. He was also coerced into swearing that he wouldn’t speak of it to their father. 

_“I promise not to tell if you promise not to change into a rat again.”_ He told them and the brothers agreed. 

The bell at the door went off and Jared quickly scrambled to stand up. He was just grabbing onto the edge of the desk when Brenden knocked on the doorway, glaring at the caretaker. “Did I interrupt your nap?” He questioned. 

Jared shook his head and stood up, dusting his sweater off. “N-no sir, I was just-”

The elf raised his hand and he closed his mouth, his hands shaking at his sides. “Excuses aren’t your strongest points. I suggest you stay quiet.” Oh how he wanted to punch Brenden. 

The two boys walked up to their father, Sylnan in front of Br’aad and Br’aad tiredly rubbing his eyes. Brenden crouched down on his knee, staring at his sons for a while. The older brother looked tense, staring back at his father while Br’aad stayed oblivious. Brenden made a _tch_ sound before grabbing Sylnan’s hand and dragging the brothers out of the daycare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What would a daycare au chapter be without Brenden?


	24. Day 24: Fated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR SPOILERS FOR VELRISA'S BACKSTORY AND ARC 2 EPISODE 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, MAJOR spoilers ahead.

Ander wasn’t going to accept it. He didn’t want to and how could he? Just three years old-a sweet little girl-and here she laid on her bed, no pulse and limp. He walked into her room to wake her up and when he did everything he could to wake her up, he finally put two and two together. He should’ve listened to her when she told him she wasn’t feeling well and she was weak the days before. 

So he kneeled on the wooden floors next to her bed, holding her cold purple hand in his and clasped it tightly, praying with tears down his face. “Velrisa..my baby girl..” he sobbed, his eyes closed so tight that it hurt. Yet he couldn’t find the strength to open them and look at her dead body. “I should’ve done more for you..I should’ve listened to you and taken care of you when you needed it the most. I wish I could’ve done more to keep you by my side, my baby..” he rested his forehead on her hand that he was holding, hoping that maybe she would move her fingers and touch his face with her soft and gentle hands. “Weejas..my lady..please, why did it have to be her? Only three years old..still a babe..” he choked. 

_ “It was her time: her fate some would say.” _ His head snapped up and his eyes widened. On the other side of the bed there stood his goddess: thin and tall with her raven black hair pulled into a loose yet clean bun. Her hands pressed together in front of her as she stared at him with sorrow and sympathy.  _ “You could’ve done all you could, yet it wouldn’t have been enough. Do not worry though, she didn’t pass away in pain. She passed away with good thoughts and dreams.” _ She told him, putting a pale hand on Velrisa’s forehead. 

He shook his head. “No, please. There must be something I can do. She..she just can’t be dead..”

_ “I am sorry, Ander Greyrock.”  _ She apologized, hanging her head low.  _ “I don’t doubt that she was a gentle soul.” _

“She was more than a gentle soul.” He blurted out. “Velrisa was caring and sweet, yet she was shoved away by her mother and father for carrying infernal blood. I promised to take care of her, I can’t let her die thinking that her uncle was like her family that didn’t want her.” He took a deep breath to calm himself. There was no point in losing his temper-especially in front of Weejas. 

There was silence after he ranted. It was so quiet that Ander thought that Weejas had disappeared and left him to mourn for his loss. 

Then, she spoke.  _ “You said you would do anything for her?”  _ She repeated his words. He nodded his head.  _ “Very well. There is a way for her to continue living and bypass her fate. However, it will serve consequences for your own health.” _

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes for another chance at life.” 

She nodded her head. She began to explain the terms and the deal he would need to make: it would result in living for as long as Velrisa, but that was something he was willing to do for her. 

* * *

The next day, Velrisa awoke groggy and sweating. She told Ander of her dreams and that she saw a beautiful woman with long black hair while the new champion dabbed a damp cold towel on her forehead. He missed those wide golden eyes and her warm touch as she held his face in her small hands. She wasn’t going to be fated to die for a long time, not before he himself passes. 


	25. Day 25: Weapon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have daycare au brainrot alright?

“Hey, hey, hey!” Jared yelled, covering his head from the barrage of sticks and little staffs of foam raining down on him. 

“Die foul beast!” Br’aad yelled, whacking him with a thin stick. Why did he agree to play as the dragon in their little game?

The day started off with Jared readint the kids a small story-a classic cliché of knights and dragons-and then proceeding to arts and crafts. The brothers drew and colored swords, Taxi drawing a staff that he knew his father owned and Velrisa ripping a page with a hammer on it and then coloring it in crayon. They were excited to role play being heroes and fighting against beasts. It was a difficult task to get them to settle down for nap time and he figured he would read the story again to get them to sleep. They woke up ready to play again after their nap. 

Br’aad and Sylnan were back to back, swinging air swords or-for Sylnan-”dæggers” about. Taxi was a bit shy but he was a lot more playful today, giggling and being a lot more talkative with the others than he usually would be on a normal day. Velrisa was still a quiet girl, but she had a big smile on her face and he wasn’t sure what happened but she managed to make the boys be somewhat fearful of her. 

When they got to the playground, the children asked if he could play with them as their monster that they needed to fight to complete their quest. Of course, the caretaker said yes just to make them smile and that so he wasn’t just watching them from afar. 

Here he was, listening to the yells and giggles as he got whacked on his back and his head with sticks and foam. Where did they get the foam from?  _ Sylnan, of course. He keeps sneaking into the art cabinets.  _

Finally, he flopped on his back and said, “I’m dead, you have beaten me!” dramatically and went limp, sticking his tongue out. He expected cheering from the kids but it was just silence. Did they whack his ears too?

He opened one eye and saw their lips quiver, eyes filled with tears.  _ Oh god he’s done it again. _ Jared sat right up, beginning to panic. “I’m alive, I’m alive!” 

The rest of the outside time was spent coddling them and trying to calm their sobbing down before they had to go back inside. 


	26. Day 26: Theft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was going somewhere but halfway writing this I have no idea what I was doing so I'm sorry 
> 
> Anyways Sylgarth brainrot anyone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry ;-;

Would it be considered theft if a tall half-elf with beautiful brown eyes and-when not entirely greasy-brown hair waltzed into your life and stole your heart?

If it did, then Ugarth Swayingfist wouldn’t complain. Sylnan Vengolor had him wrapped around his finger while holding his heart in his other hand. Sometimes he wondered if he could have stopped the thief from sneaking his way to become all that Ugarth could think of every night. The answer was always no; even if he tried, Sylnan would still wriggle his way in. 

At first he was a bit skeptical of the thief. Surviving on the harsh streets of the Great King’s Wharf wasn’t an easy task. Ugarth didn’t know many people that wouldn’t kill for a single piece of bread. 

That was before he met his little brother. Br’aad spoke highly of Sylnan and told him that he wasn’t the kind of person to take an innocent life if it meant survival. 

_ “He doesn’t talk much about what he does, but Sylnan could’ve left me to die in that orphanage. I doubt it means much to you, but it means that he’s not as heartless as everyone else here. _ ” The young boy explained. 

So Ugarth decided to get to know him. The half-elf was very distant and defensive-naturally and understandably so. The half-orc didn’t notice before, but when he reflected on their small talk, he seemed awkward and a little timid. Those defenses had begun to crumble the more they talked to each other and hung out. Sylnan was more relaxed and seemed like he could talk to Ugarth freely without much trouble or awkwardness. 

However, it wasn’t the small talk and conversations that got Ugarth’s heart caught in Sylnan’s trap. Sylnan received a note, assigning him a job from an anonymous employer who would pay a more than fair amount of money. Ugarth found the young man glaring at the piece of paper, scratching his head and already gaining wrinkles on his tired face. 

“Are you trying to burn holes into it?” Ugarth joked, trying to look over the half-elf’s shoulder to read the note. 

Sylnan shoved it into his pocket and attempted to keep a straight face. “No, no, it’s fine. I think I just zoned out a bit.” He cleared his throat and avoided eye contact. 

He hummed and nodded. “I see, so then what was the note about?” he watched the young man’s shoulders tense and panic beginning to show. 

“I’m not sure, I didn’t really read it you know?” The half-elf chuckled nervously. 

Ugarth raised an eyebrow, deciding to pry. “Is it important? Something you have to keep secret?” 

“I haven’t read it yet.” Sylnan rolled his eyes. 

“But then who gave you the note?”

“For fucks sake I don’t know.” 

He wasn’t sure how, but Ugarth was able to get Sylnan to take the note out and they both took a look at it. A moment of silence between them, the half-elf whispered. “It looks like scribbles..” 

“These scribbles mean that you got a job to kidnap a child.”

“.... _ Oh.” _

* * *

He knew there were dirty jobs that people wouldn’t even do a double take for. Yet, it shocked him when he read the note aloud to his illiterate friend. Ugarth regretted every word he read, not daring to look up at his friend’s reaction. In his gut, he knew that Sylnan wouldn’t take this job. The half-elf made it clear that he was against taking jobs like this, especially if it involved a child. After he finished, the monk reluctantly glanced up. Sylnan never looked more stressed out than when he described the details for the job. 

“Are you sure you want to take this?” The half-ord asked, concerned for his friend.

He nodded and took the note back, folding it and then shoving it in his pocket again. “I need the money, Ugarth. I can’t pass this up.” His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper and he walked away. 

It didn’t take long for Sylnan to talk to him again. The man looked stressed and distraught, hair messier than usual. Ugarth did his best to comfort him, letting the half-elf stay at his place and sleep leaning against his shoulder. Ugarth wanted to tell him that whatever happened wasn't his fault, that everything was going to be okay. 

When did he get so soft for a thief? 


	27. Day 27: Velrisa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Velrisa appreciation

Velrisa stared at the half-elf brothers with obvious confusion on her face. “How did this happen?” She asked them, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

Br’aad rubbed the back of his head and chuckled nervously. “Well, you see, it’s a very long story-”

“Where’s Taxi and Mountain?” She crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her foot.

They looked at each other before they looked down at their shoes. “Passed out on the street.” They muttered in unison. The tiefling sighed before walking past the two and downstairs to outside the inn. She had pushed the door only to have it move an inch open and then acting as if there was something blocking her way out. She forced it open, moving the object in front of the door as well. When she was able to squeeze herself through the small opening, she immediately saw Taxi curled up next to a barrel with a cup of liquor next to him. 

Velrisa looked at what was blocking the door. She shouldn’t have been surprised when she saw a passed out dwarf leaning against the wood. “Why didn’t you stop them?” She asked, glancing inside the inn at the two Vengolor brothers. 

They shrugged and nervously smiled. “We were a bit busy.” Sylnan replied. 

Velrisa sighed and grabbed Taxi from under his arms. “Well then could you help me-” she had turned her head to look at the brothers to see that they were already gone. Of course, she was going to have to do this by herself. 

The tiefling closed the door to Mountain’s room, taking a moment to breathe. Her back and arms were sore and she slid down against the wooden door, extremely exhausted from today and then having to deal with two wasted men. They reeked of mead and booze, mumbling nonsense as she tried to drag them up the stairs. They also had hints of blood and bruises on them. It must’ve been a bar fight they got involved in again. She shouldn’t be surprised at this point. 

She heard footsteps coming up the stairs. The familiar brothers were poking their heads up from down a few steps, looking at Velrisa. If she wasn’t glaring at them already it would almost be comical. “Where have you two been?” She asked breathlessly. 

Br’aad had went to respond when his older brother slapped a hand over his mouth and replied, “Nowhere in particular.” Smiling cheekily. “Do you need help getting up?” He asked, starting his way up the staircase. 

Velrisa shook her head, pushing herself off the ground. “No, I can do it myself. Goodnight.” She dragged herself back to her room, closing the door harsher than she would have liked, and flopped face first into the mattress. 

* * *

As she fixed her gear to head out, she heard a soft knock at her door. “Come in.” She said softly, using her fingers to comb through her tangled hair. The door opened shyly and there stood her friends. “Is something wrong?” She asked them. 

Taxi and Br’aad glanced at each other and then back at Velrisa. “We want to explain what happened last night.” said the tabaxi. 

“And to apologize for leaving you.” Sylnan added, rubbing the back of his neck. 

They began their explanation. Apparently, after she had left the tavern after getting a fill of cool ice water, they overheard some men calling her slurs and even going as far as saying that they would “exorcise the devil” from their town. Mountain and Taxi, who weren’t as drunk as Velrisa thought, confronted them, only giving them a warning. Then the bar fight began with the two men throwing their drinks on the tabaxi and dwarf. The two unfortunately lost and were thrown out to the street. Sylnan and Br’aad had run off to  _ take care of unfinished business _ which they had refused to disclose on. 

“We’re sorry for making you mad at us and for taking care of them by yourself.” Br’aad apologized. “But is there a way we can make it up to you?” They looked at her with almost a puppy like look. 

She didn’t have much reason to be mad at them. Taxi and Mountain didn’t start the fight (for once) and even though she hasn’t confirmed what the Vengolors were doing, she at least appreciated their apology. 

She gave them a small smile, hand on her chest and looked at them. “Just no more bar fights. I may be a cleric, but that doesn't mean I have to heal you.” Then, she walked past them downstairs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to write Evil Vel originally but heehoo we'll save that for another day :3


	28. Day 28: Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katherine doesn’t fear death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween! Don’t worry I’m working on catching up!

_ “Are you afraid of death?” _

_ “No, I’m just afraid I’ll die without you knowing.” _

And it was true. She wasn’t necessarily afraid of dying. She was scared that Sylnan would never know if she had died or not. It would break her own heart if he thought she left without telling him where she would have gone. She was scared that people would forget she ever existed or write her death off as an accident or whatnot. 

_ “Trust me, Katherine.”  _ The half-elf held her hands in his, giving her a gentle, reassuring smile.  _ “I won’t let you die. Not before me and I’ll make sure of it.” _ The human’s heart swelled at his promise, tears at the corner of her eyes as she touched her forehead against his.

_ “I don’t plan on passing before you.”  _ She whispered and they sealed that promise with a gentle kiss. 

* * *

Sylnan kept true to his word. Some may call it overprotective, but she liked to think of it as insurance. He walked her back home and stayed with her a couple of hours to make sure she was safe before he left to meet up with Br’aad or whatnot. He made sure she wasn’t walking down any dark alleys and that she was by his side. He even taught her a little bit on how to defend herself. 

_ “I’ll be okay, Sylnan.”  _ She said, smiling and placing her hand on his cheek to caress it with her thumb.  _ “I promise I won’t be long.” _

_ “I know but I’m just worried. People keep talking about this Barber killing people around the city and I just want to make sure you get home safe.”  _ He held her hand on his cheek, leaning into the palm like a cat receiving pets. 

She giggled and stood on her toes, pecking his nose gently.  _ “Need not worry my love. It’s still light out, I should be safe for a bit.” _ She noticed his worried glances at her.  _ “I won’t be long. Just there and back to you.” _

_ “Maybe I can-“ _

_ “Go take care of your brother. He needs you with him.” _ She reasoned, grabbing both his hands and holding them together in her own smaller ones. Sylnan sighed before nodding his head and kissing her forehead, waving her off as she went into the market to purchase medicine. 

Katherine walked into the second floor of the factory, immediately swung off her feet and into a tight embrace by Sylnan. _ “Thank the gods you're safe.”  _ He whispered in her hair. 

_ “Didn’t I tell you I would come back?” _

_ “I’m sorry, I just can’t lose you.”  _

She didn’t want to tell him about the man who had threatened her and forced her to give him the medicine and money. 

* * *

Katherine was able to calm Sylnan’s fears over a few weeks. She took busier-yet longer-routes homes and she was able to strike and run successfully. He slowly began to feel better about her walking home alone. 

_ “Please be careful.”  _ She told him, sighing as she knew fully well what the two Vengolor brothers were up to. 

_ “You too.” _ He smiled at her and walked down the street with Br’aad. 

She took her usual route, walking next to the crowd to home. She felt tired and just wanted to get home and sleep. 

Katherine made a small detour into an alleyway. 

* * *

She wasn’t sure how she ended up like this, down on the ground with a blade repeatedly stabbing into her chest. She wasn’t thinking  _ it hurts, it hurts  _ or  _ I don’t want to die _ . She was hoping someone would find her, and confirmed that she had died. She wanted Sylnan to know. She wanted him to know that she wasn’t gone. She just wanted him to know. 

Her last gasp was his name on her lips before it all faded. 


	29. Day 29: Taxi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taxi the tabaxi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for arc 2 ep 34  
> Also I kinda thought this would be a cute idea ;-;

“Taxi?”

“Hm?”

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m sleepy.” 

“But what are you doing?” 

“Can I just lay on your for a little bit?” 

“....Okay.”

Br’aad’s face felt extremely hot as he petted the tabaxi’s head, hearing the soft purrs from his friend. Taxi was nuzzling his head against the half-elf’s leg, a small smile on his face. It was a very tiring day, he just wanted a small nap. 

* * *

“Taxi?”

“Hm?”

“Can I try something with you?”

“Does it involve me getting hurt?” 

“No, I promise it doesn’t. I just wanted to test something out.” 

“Okay.”

Taxi watched Br’aad quickly leave the room and turn to the corner. He was feeling anxious and so he tried to listen in closely. He heard a bit of shushing and shuffling, and a dull clank sound. 

He waited a little longer until he saw Br’aad’s tattooed hand holding a stick with feathers and a bell on the end of the string. 

Sylnan, Velrisa, Mountain and Br’aad waited on the other side of the room, only hearing the small jingle of the golden bell. 

“Br’aad, I don’t think this will work.” Whispered Sylnan. 

His younger brother shushed him and moved the toy around a bit. “Trust me, it has to.” 

A few moments passed by and the tabaxi slid across the floor, his paws grabbing onto the deaths and toys as he swiped and pawed at it. The blond half-elf moved the toy up and down, smirking at his friends. “I told you so.”

* * *

“Taxi?”

…

“Taxi? Can you hear me?”

…

“I’m gonna take that as a yes. Can I tell you about what we did?”

Br’aad leaned his back against the sturdy tree trunk, trying to imagine it as the familiar soft and furry chest. The one where he could curl in on the warmth and feel the small heartbeats against his back. 

He was babbling, using his hands to narrate the retelling of their story and what the others did after the fight. 

“Sylnan’s waiting for me, but I wanted to swing by here again and just kinda keep you company for a bit.” The half-elf said, watching a few pink petals in his hands and gently rubbing it between his fingers. “We all miss you and we’re all very thankful for you. What you did saved us and I don’t think we’ll ever forget that.” He smiled, watching his vision get cloudy and his eyes stinging. “I wish you were here again with us. We could laugh and drink together. I could see your nice forearms and nicer staff.” He choked on his words, sniffling and wiping the tears with his cape. 

“Thank you, Taxi the Tabaxi.”


End file.
